by Linda Ford
She dashed away tears. Celia would never again share a secret with her. They would never again lay on one of their beds and talk about what life would be like when they were grown up and married. She rocked back and forth as sorrow surged through her body, bringing an ache to every limb, every organ.
A few minutes later, spent by the force of her emotion, she lay down on the bed, pulled the afghan over herself, and slept.
She wakened to Megan babbling and rushed over to get her before she got upset. She changed Megan’s diaper and left the room. The door to Audrey’s room was closed, so she tiptoed past in case the woman was sleeping.
The afternoon dragged by. It was a relief when Audrey, who had emerged from her room shortly after Connie passed, began supper preparation. Connie was only too happy to help.
Megan couldn’t wait to eat until the men returned so Connie fed her and put her to bed at her regular time.
Then she and Audrey sat on the porch, shawls around their shoulders, to watch for the men to return.
The rattle of the wagon announced their approach before they came into view. Then Bowser ran to the porch and shook himself, sending a spray of mud toward the women.
Audrey jumped up. “Bowser, go get cleaned up.”
Bowser sat back on his haunches and whined.
“Wash first then I’ll give you something to eat.” She pointed toward the barn. “Go.”
The dog slunk toward the barn, glancing over his shoulder several times to inform them he thought his treatment unfair.
Connie chuckled. “He’s like one of the boys.”
Audrey sighed. “Sometimes I wonder why I put up with him.”
“You don’t fool me. You’re fond of him.”
“I suppose I am.”
Three riders and a wagon arrived at the barn. In the dusky light, Connie could only see dark figures move about but even so, their weariness was obvious.
“Looks like they had a hard day.”
Audrey agreed. “They’ll be hungry and tired. And I warn you, they’ll be cranky.”
They hurried inside to dish up the food, and by the time the men reached the house, the meal was on the table.
All of them wore stained clothing, damp in places as if mud had been scrubbed off. Weariness lined each face. There was no joking, no conversation. The men practically fell into their chairs.
With a deep sigh, Blaze said grace.
“Where’s Megan?” Jake asked.
“Gone to bed hours ago.”
Levi grunted. “I was looking forward to her smile.”
“Me too.” Jake looked at Connie.
“I’ll be sure and tell her.” She smiled at Jake and was rewarded by an answering grin. Then the men filled their plates. She had never seen food eaten with such concentration.
Connie had wondered if Audrey was preparing too much, but the bowl of potatoes, the big platter of roast meat, the bowl of green beans, another of baked beans, the plate of biscuits, and a jar of beet pickles were soon empty.
Connie had found fresh rhubarb and baked two pies thinking they would be enough for two meals, but both were eaten.
Finally, the men slowed down.
“How did it go?” Audrey asked the question that begged to be asked.
The four men shook their heads.
Blaze answered. “Far too slow. We hardly made a dent in it. We were thinking…” He glanced at each of his brothers before he proceeded. “It would go faster if Sal could help dig rather than cook.”
Connie felt four pairs of eyes on her. “What?”
“We need someone to cook for us.” Jake regarded her with a question in his eyes.
“Boys.” The one word from Audrey carried a load of warning.
Blaze waved away her protest.
“Connie, would you come out and cook for us?” The words rushed from Jake. “You could bring Megan.”
“What about Audrey?” It seemed odd they would ask her rather than her sister.
“We thought—” Jake stopped as if considering what he meant to say. “I thought you might enjoy seeing and experiencing more of ranch life before you leave.” The golden lamplight caught in his eyes, making their blue warm and—
She was mistaken. He wasn’t welcoming her into his world…his life. Yet the idea of living like a real ranch woman, cooking out on the range, thrilled her. “I have never cooked in the open.”
“The chuckwagon is well outfitted, and Sal will teach you everything you need to know.” Jake seemed eager to convince her.
She turned to Audrey. “What do you think?”
“If you want to do it, by all means. I could come along.” She looked to her brothers. “But if you plan to return for supper, I should stay here and make it.” She glanced around the house. “I’ve been wanting a chance to do spring cleaning.”
The idea was tossed around. Blaze finally held up his hand to signal silence. “It seems we are agreed that it would be best for everyone to return here at night and get a decent night’s sleep. So, if Connie is agreeable, she and Megan can accompany us, and Audrey will stay back to take care of her work.” He looked around the table.
“Connie, are you sure?” Audrey asked. “I could probably clean the house and watch her at the same time.”
Connie laughed at the idea. She could picture Audrey climbing a ladder then having to hurry down to run after the toddling baby. “I don’t know that she’s ready to have me leave her all day. Besides, it sounds like fun.”
“You can change your mind if it proves too much.”
She guessed Jake meant to be accommodating but she vowed then and there she would not fail in this task. “It won’t,” she said.
Later, under the covers of her bed, Megan snuffling nearby in her sleep, Connie had second thoughts. Would she be able to cook for a crew? What if she couldn’t?
She could ask God to help her, but she hadn’t asked God if He wanted her to do this, so perhaps she didn’t have the right. She remembered something a godly woman had told her years ago when she struggled to know the future. “I have found that in most cases, whatever is right ahead of us, is what God wants us to do. He doesn’t give us details about the future. Only one step at time. So, take whatever step appears next and trust God to show you if you are headed the wrong direction. Remember the verse from Proverbs, ‘In all thy ways acknowledge him, and he shall direct thy paths.’” It seemed those words applied to this situation, so Connie asked God to help her then closed her eyes and fell asleep.
* * *
Jake tossed and turned, unable to sleep. When they’d discussed the idea of asking Connie to cook for the crew, it had sounded like such a good idea. She’d seemed interested in the ranch, had seemed to like the countryside. He thought she might enjoy a more personal experience.
But Audrey had pulled him aside. “Cooking for a bunch of men over a campfire is not an easy task. I hope you know what you’re doing.”
“I think I do.” But now, in the silence of his room, with no need to defend his idea, he wondered if he’d made a mistake. But having another man to dig would help the task go faster.
He decided he would mention to Sal that he should be ready to lend a hand if it looked like Connie needed it.
Other things crowded his mind, such as how much he’d enjoyed the afternoon he and Connie had shared, how delightful Megan was. Exhaustion took over and he fell asleep before he could examine what those thoughts meant.
The next morning, Blaze banged on Jake’s door while it was still dark. “Up and at it, brother.” Doors opened and closed. Megan whined then giggled as Levi said something to her.
Jake grabbed the same denim trousers he’d worn yesterday. No point in donning a clean pair. Digging in the mud would only soil them.
He tucked in his shirt and headed down the hall.
Audrey served a huge breakfast as Connie fed Megan.
“Any second thoughts?” he asked Connie.
“Not me. How about you?”
&n
bsp; “Nope. Not a one.” He wouldn’t acknowledge the doubts he’d had last night.
They ate hurriedly then went to hitch the wagon and saddle horses.
Connie followed with a bag she’d prepared for Megan’s needs.
Jake helped them to the seat and climbed up beside them, having been told he would be the one driving them back and forth. Not that he objected. This was mostly his idea, and he meant to see they were safe and sound.
It was a thirty-minute journey to the landslide. Already the cowboys were digging at the mud. He drove the wagon close so they could pitch the mud into the wagon bed. As soon as it was loaded, someone would drive it a distance away and the mud would be shoveled off. It was hard work and time consuming. They were all aware of the need to rescue the cows before it was too late.
He took Megan and helped Connie down then took them to the chuck wagon.
“Sal, I brought someone to do your cooking so you could grab a shovel.” He introduced them.
Sal, tall, bald—not that you’d know if because he never took off his cowboy hat—and with a large gray moustache looked Connie up and down.
“And a baby?”
Jake whistled for Bowser. “Boy, it’s your job to keep Megan out of trouble.” He led the dog to the baby. “Stay.” He then turned to Sal. “Bowser will guard Megan.”
Sal continued his study of Connie. “Ya ever run a chuckwagon before?”
“I haven’t, but I’m told you’re the best cook in these parts, and I’m hoping you’ll help me learn.”
Some of that she’d made up. Or assumed. But Sal grinned. “I am the best. ’Course, the competition is a little lacking.” He looked at the men working on the mountain of mud. Shifted his gaze to the chuckwagon. “I’m a mite particular about my things. Don’t like my Dutch ovens to be left dirty. I have some that are used for biscuits. Others only for meat. And a special one for the baked beans.”
“I promise to do things your way. I’m eager to learn from you.”
“Very well. Then let’s get to it.” He looked at Jake. “Shouldn’t ya be on the business end of a shovel? Put the baby there. Bowser, get over here and look after her.”
Jake put Megan down. He straightened, suddenly overwhelmed with what he expected from Connie and her a guest. He touched her arm. “If you change your mind, just say so.”
Sal planted his hands on his hips. “Are ya suggesting I’m a poor teacher?”
“No sir. Not me.” He headed to where the men worked but paused halfway there and looked back.
Sal and Connie were already at the tail end of the chuckwagon. Connie nodded as Sal talked.
He hoped he hadn’t made a mistake that would have Connie hating him.
8
Connie listened intently as Sal explained the business of cooking over a fire. He had a long rack over the red coals on which there were four big black pots—Sal’s precious Dutch ovens.
“Ya don’t want a huge fire, just keep enough wood on it to keep it hot.” He had big mitts he used to lift lids and explained to her what was in each huge pot. “Most everything is already cooking. Ya just need to keep an eye on it.” He showed her how to bake biscuits for the noon meal. “There’s makings for rice pudding.” He glanced around to make sure no one was listening then opened a little drawer. “This here is the directions for it. I never use them anymore. You know how it is. After time, ya just know what to do.” He tapped the scribbled note. “This will help ya though. Get it started right away and it’ll be done for dinner.” He considered Connie, taking measure of her, no doubt. “Think ya can handle that, little lady?”
Connie grinned. “You haven’t left me much to do. Besides, if I need help, I know where to find you.”
“Ya sure do.” He gave another look around his domain then went to help the men.
Connie watched him go. Jake looked up at the man’s approach then glanced toward Connie. She smiled and waved to assure him she could do this.
He gave a little salute.
She turned her attention to the rice pudding, smiling as she worked. It was pleasant to be doing something useful, something that made her feel she was important to the work being done. She glanced up often to check on Megan and watch the progress the men made. It seemed every time that Jake looked at her at the same time.
It didn’t mean anything, she informed herself, but just the same, it felt good, as if her well-being mattered to someone.
As she worked, she kept an eye on Megan. Bowser proved to be a great babysitter. He let the baby crawl on him. Let her tangle her fingers through his fur, and when she took a step toward where the men worked, he pressed against her, turning her away. He did the same if the baby headed toward the fire.
“You’re a good dog, Bowser,” Connie said, patting his head.
He looked up at her. She could almost believe he smiled.
As the rice pudding cooked, she began baking biscuits. Sal had told her she would have to do them in batches.
She had everything ready when Sal came back and checked everything.
“Looks good. Ya can make stew and dumplings for supper.” He showed her where the vegetables and bottled meat was.
The rest of the men joined them. She was introduced to the six cowboys. The men lined up and filed by, filling their plates.
She waited until they had all done so then dished up food for herself and Megan. She looked around for the little girl and saw her sitting at Jake’s side as he fed her from his plate.
For a moment, she watched them together. If things had gone as she’d expected when she started this journey, this scene could well have become part of Megan’s future. Instead, it was temporary. Soon it would be the two of them alone together.
Levi offered Megan a mouthful from his plate. Megan ate it then turned back to Jake, opening her mouth like a hungry bird.
Every cowboy watched the little girl, their expressions varying from interested to yearning. If Megan had been Jake’s daughter, she would have a permanent place here and likely have the loyalty of all these cowboys.
Connie shook off the what-might-have-beens and announced rice pudding for dessert.
Each man eagerly took a helping and downed it. They didn’t linger over the meal, but as they left, every one of them thanked her.
Megan fussed at being deserted and tried to follow them, but Bowser stopped her. Connie fixed a bed for her in the shade of the wagon and settled her for an afternoon nap. Tired from playing outside all morning, she quickly fell asleep. Then it was time to wash dishes and begin supper preparation.
Megan was still sleeping when Connie had done everything she could for the moment and she sat down, leaning against the wheel of the chuckwagon. From there, she could watch the men working.
It was back-breaking work. They dug at the bank from several directions. Some of them carried buckets of mud and deposited them in the wagon. The wagon was soon full, and Jake jumped up to drive it away. Three cowboys followed and helped shovel the mud off. The hot sun beat down. They returned the wagon then stopped by the chuckwagon to get a drink of water.
Sweat dripped from each forehead. Jake wiped his sleeve across his face.
“It looks like hard work,” Connie said.
“It is and it’s taking far too long. We have to move faster than this.”
The other pair swallowed their water. “We’re going as fast as we can, Jake,” one said.
“I know. I don’t mean otherwise.” He shook his head.
The cowboys hurried back to resume the work, but Jake lingered.
“Is there anything I can do to help?” Connie asked.
“You’re already doing a lot, but there is one thing you could do. You could pray we get a passageway through.”
“I will certainly do that.”
“I guess that’s the best thing you can do.” He brought his gaze from scowling at the bank of mud. A smile creased his face. “How do you like being in charge of a chuckwagon?”
She leaned close
r as if to share a secret. “I haven’t done hardly anything. Sal has it all under control.” She looked around. “But don’t tell your brothers, or they might want to leave me at the house.”
He grinned wider. “I don’t think that’s going to happen.” He leaned closer, his breath a whisper against her cheek. “Not if I have anything to say about it.” With a touch to the brim of his hat, he sauntered back to work.
Connie couldn’t stop smiling as she watched him. It was nice to be appreciated. Even if it was solely because she was helping.
The men sweated and dug all afternoon. They paused for a quick break and ate a jar of cookies Sal produced from inside the wagon.
“I can bake cookies,” Connie offered. She might as well make herself useful even though she had enjoyed watching the work. Jake was always the one who drove the wagon away and helped unload it, and every time he waved and smiled at her as he passed by.
“It’s a little tricky.” Sal considered her a moment. “But the boys are hungry.” He showed her how to bake over the fire. “The most important thing is not to let the fire be too hot or too cold.”
“I’ll do my best.” He returned to work, and she mixed up a batch of cookies according to directions he had hidden in the little drawer. It would take a few hours to bake them all. It was hot working over the fire.
Jake stopped on one of his trips. “You don’t have to do so much.”
“I don’t mind. It’s rather fun to do something new and challenging.”
“I feel bad for bringing you out here.”
She straightened and faced him, realizing he stood only a foot away. “Jake, haven’t you heard that if a person isn’t ornamental, they should be useful? I’m being useful.” She was about to turn back to the cookies when he caught her arm and stopped her.
“I’d say a person can be both.” His cheeks darkened, and she didn’t think it was from the sun. Then he strode away.
She stared after him. “Why, Jake Hooper,” she murmured. “I do believe you paid me a compliment.” And it felt good.